


i'm learning to live

by ThatHydrokinetic



Series: Found Family Bingo [1]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Chronic Pain, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe, and making them ask for help, and that's how it is, buddy and juno are mentioned in passing, in case anyone needs that as a warning, pain med mention, set between s2 and s3, sometimes u project by giving a character chronic pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:01:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29200269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatHydrokinetic/pseuds/ThatHydrokinetic
Summary: It’s been a long day for Peter Nureyev. He worked an op he felt underprepared for and stood around in heels for way longer than expected. On top of that, he spent this entire time across from Juno, looking perfect and untouchable and good.The worst part is that now his leghurts.--Peter's in pain, and Rita's in a position to give him a hand.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev & Rita
Series: Found Family Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143860
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49
Collections: Found Family Bingo





	i'm learning to live

**Author's Note:**

> For the [found family bingo](https://found-family-bingo.tumblr.com/) prompt "hidden injuries"!
> 
> Shoutout to hecate ([drumkonwords](https://drumkonwords.tumblr.com/)) for betaing!!
> 
> Title from "Giver" by K Flay

It’s been a long day for Peter Nureyev. He worked an op he felt underprepared for and stood around in heels for way longer than expected. On top of that, he spent this entire time across from Juno, looking perfect and untouchable and  _ good. _

The worst part is that now his leg  _ hurts. _ He hasn’t had a truly good brace for a while, not since the tomb collapsed and his old one broke, but he’d been better. He’d been better, but now he is worse, and he is trying to hold it together just long enough that he can slink to his room and curl on his bunk and think about nothing until it fades.

It’s almost enough to distract him from the sharp pain he feels every time Juno avoids his gaze. Almost.

“Ransom,” Buddy says, turning to him. Peter’s struck, as he regularly is, by the sheer level of confidence and grace she holds. “Anything to report?”

“Why, nothing at all,” he says, leaning against the wall behind him in what he hopes is a show of nonchalance, and not at all what it actually is: an excuse to get the weight off his leg. “Nothing that Juno hasn’t already mentioned.”

“Really?” It feels like a test. “No suspicious activity, no injuries?”

“Like I said, Captain.” He smiles with teeth, lying all the way through. “Nothing at all. Now, may we be excused? There’s a stream I’ve been just  _ dying _ to watch.”

Something in the line of her jaw tells him he’s failed, but it’s just one more nail in his coffin at this point. Something in the line of Juno’s brow tells him that Juno hasn’t bought it, not entirely, but he doesn’t have it in him to care. All he can care about right now are the seconds between him and the bottle of pain medication in his bathroom cabinet.

Buddy ends the briefing and waves them away to their comforts, and Peter does the bare minimum in covering his limp, managing it just until he’s turned the corner. Then he collapses into the wall, using it as a half-assed crutch until he can jimmy the door to his room open.

It’s a mess. It’s always a mess, but he’s particularly fussed with the fact that he has to play hopscotch on the way to his bed. 

The moment he’s collapsed onto it, he remembers that his meds are in the other room, and nearly bites back a groan.

It’s—fuck. Now that he’s down, there’s no chance he’s getting back up. He  _ knows _ that it would be better if he just bit the bullet now and grabbed his meds, instead of trying to wait it out sober, but that isn’t happening. It was hard enough to keep himself from collapsing like a card tower in front of the entire crew; he won’t make it a step in the privacy of his own rooms.

It sucks. He lays there for a while, feeling the ebbs and flows radiate from his knee. It’s been years since he broke it, but he hadn’t been able to have it set until days after, and by then, the damage was permanent. Having an entire tomb fall on him hadn’t helped things. Both unwilling and unable to see a medical professional since hadn’t helped, either.

What  _ really _ wasn’t helping was the banging on his door.

“Mistah Ransom!” a voice called out. A particular voice, in fact, one that Peter didn’t often hear outside of the company of one Juno Steel. 

“R—Rita!” he calls back. He hadn’t managed to bite back the stutter caused by a sudden wave of pain, and he could tell by Rita’s sudden stillness that she hadn’t missed it. “Can I do something for you?”

Her voice was quieter, this time. “Mistah Steel told me you were watching a stream. I thought maybe you’d like some snacks or some company, after that job where you were standing all day.”

God, don’t remind him. “Well I’m—fuck.” He takes a breath in, out. “I’m quite alright, Rita. Thank you for the thought.”

“Are you sure? You don’t sound alright. Did Mistah Steel say something to you? He doesn’t always know when he’s better off just keeping quiet.”

“No, Juno was—he was in perfect form. Nothing to worry about.”

“Well...” She trails off. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?”

There was. There was one very small, very simple thing that she could do for him, that would mean the difference between a night spent flinching every time his knee bent wrong and one of a full—or full-ish—night’s sleep.

Buddy has berated him more than once on the importance of trusting members of this crew. Of  _ this _ crew. He was the worst of all of them, she’d said. And this was Rita. Juno trusted her. Juno’s trusted her for years.

“Actually, if—if you have a moment, and it’s not too much trouble—” 

She’s already got the door to his room open, which is...upsetting. Theoretically, she shouldn’t have access. But that’s a concern for later. “Yes? What is it?”

“In—” he waves a hand towards the door, over his shoulder. “In my bathroom, there’s a bottle of pain medication. Would you mind grabbing it for me?”

“Oh, no problem!” She begins to weave through his piles of things, both meticulous and haphazard. “So you aren’t watching a stream?”

The question catches him off guard enough that he jerks, which means that his knee is pulled from its very particular position of least pain, which means he can’t quite bite back a hiss of pain. Rita, for her part, just pulls open the bathroom door. “Uh, no. Not tonight, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that’s alright. Let me know if you ever want a recommendation—I watched this really neat one recently, and it was about a crew of thieves, would you guess that—”

She’s drowned out, briefly, by the faucet turning on. Then she returns to his bedside, holding both the bottle and a glass.

He could’ve kissed her right then. “Thank you,” he says, and pulls himself up enough to swallow it down. “I’ll owe you one.”

“Oh, this was nothing, Mistah Ransom. Here, I’ll leave you a bag of chips in case you get hungry later. Let me know if you need anything else!”

And then she bundles herself out of his room, locking the door behind her, and Peter tries very hard to pretend like nothing at all has shifted. 


End file.
